Three Words
by anonymous0305
Summary: When Harry takes a fatal blow to the breast from a perilous Fizzing Whizzbee, he finds himself at his most vulnerable. Who will be there to guide him through the most breathtakingly and emotionally challenging upheaval he has yet to endure?


AN:** THIS IS A JOKE. By the way, I have put in Twilight quotes in here, so don't sue me for copyrighting PLEASE REVIEW, and ENJOYY**

He clutched his _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ book like a life-line. Harry's green eyes darted around the Gryffindor common room. Pacing around the sofas, he began to feel his hands turn clammy and was well aware of the flushed cheeks he was sporting. Red... like a certain someone's tousled locks.

Just thinking of that hair caused Harry's eyes to glaze over. He stepped over the group of immature first years, sighing, when suddenly he felt a fizzing whizbee whack onto the side of his waist. With a scream of pain, he felt himself falling towards the ground, the pain of the blow cramping his entire body. But just as he was sure he would land in a heap on the carpet, a pair of strong arms shielded him from what would have been a fatal fall. Harry felt himself go dizzy, and he leant on his saviour's body, trying to collect his thoughts. But when the mysterious figure attempted to steady him so he could stand on his own, Harry clutched onto him, and twisted his neck around.

"Oh, Merlin..." Harry squealed, as his perplexed gaze met a pair of deep blue eyes, and Harry was suddenly very aware of his top few buttons being undone. But that slight feeling of embarrassment was nothing in comparison to the fiery lust he felt for his knight in shining Hogwarts robes.

"Are you alright?" Ron said, his voice riddled with concern. His breath tickled Harry's moisturised collarbone, and he had to stop himself from swooning. Ron leaned closer so that those pulchritudinous locks brushed teasingly against Harry's smooth, supple cheekbone, his long lashes fluttering instinctively. When his eyes finally focused back on Ron's aquatic blue eyes Harry managed to whisper back,

"Due to your chivalry, I am." The red head smiled, his eyes twinkling against the low lighting of the candle lit room.

"I wouldn't have been able to catch you if it weren't for your slim, toned body though." He shot back, a playful glint now inhabiting in those sensational orbs of his.

_Did he just say what I think he said?_ Harry thought, a blush bating his cheekbones. _Surely he doesn't have feelings for me too..._

"Come on, let's get you up to the dorm," He murmured softly, interrupting Harry's deep ponderings. "Yes, let's go to the bedroom." He agreed, and Ron flung a toned and sun kissed arm over Harry's Robe clad shoulders, suddenly feeling a strong heat envelope around him. But when Harry attempted to take a step, he felt his legs give way, and fell on to his knees, pain shooting up his legs. He looked up at Ron, tears of frustration brimming in his sea-green eyes, and he saw his own pain reflect in Ron's own sharp blue ones. A single tear rolled down his freckle dusted cheek, but he hastily dabbed it away and his face once again filled with a constipated gaze that Harry regarded as concern.

"R-Ron..." He whispered. His voice was breathy and seductive. Without another moment's hesitation, Ron scooped Harry up in his arms, cradling his dark and alluring mass of hair to his robust torso. Before he embarked on carrying Harry bridal style up the stairs, he placed a finger to Harry's plump and moist lips. Without really thinking about it, Harry felt his tongue shoot out of its warm crevice, and every so slightly wet Ron's outstretched finger, before retreating just as fast as it came out. He tasted a mixture of pumpkin, chocolate and the beef stew Ron had had for dinner (Harry didn't have any because of his no-carb diet). Suddenly embarrassed about what he had done, Harry bit his lip provocatively, his eyes flashing between the mass of curly red chest hair poking out of the gap in between the buttons of Ron's shirt, and those mesmerising orbs of his.

About three things I was absolutely positive.

First, Ron was a sex bomb.

Second, there was a part of him- and Harry didn't know how dominant that part may be- that thirsted for his love.

And third, he was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

Ron seemed to sense his growing arousal, and so hurried up the steps to the dorm, all the time cradling him so he wouldn't feel the bouncing of Ron's both powerful and territorial strides. The next thing Harry knew, he was being carefully laid on his bed, Ron kneeling beside him. His eyes were questioning, and after what Harry could only guess was some sort of internal debate, Ron reached out to trace light patterns on Harry's exposed chest.

"What are you drawing?" Harry muttered huskily, his own fingers brushing over Ron's masculine fingernail that was both sexy and sophisticated.

"I'm writing." He replied, his gaze still fixed on what he was doing. Harry watched in love-struck awe as his ginger brows furrowed in concentration.

"I didn't know you could write!" Harry exclaimed, a strong burst of pride coursing through his veins. "What are you writing?" He urged, when Ron continued his trance-like behaviour.

"Three words." Ron whispered, finally breaking contact with Harry's sumptuous breast and flickering back to his tempting snot coloured eyes.

"And...and what are those words, Ro?" Harry asked, his voice breaking slightly by the time he reached the nickname he so loved saying.

"I love you." Ron replied.

"I...I adore you, Ro," Harry murmured.

Harry was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of his own words. This moment was so perfect, so right; there was no way to doubt it. Ron's arms wrapped around him, holding him against him. It felt like every nerve ending on his body was a live wire.

"You are my babe." He breathed, and then everything went hazy.

Harry was in bliss.


End file.
